Coward
by MistressAli
Summary: Well, it's sorta my first try at a songfic. Wrote it quite quickly, so it's a bit shaky, but I like some parts of it nevertheless. Anyway, the song is "Coward" by Holly Mcnarland, a song that befits the woeful little Snively.


Coward  
By MistressAli

This is a songfic to the song "Coward" by Holly Mcnarland. The characters here are (c) to Sega/Archie & DIC. The lyrics contained in the brackets {} are (c) to Holly Mcnarland. Now with all that out of the way, enjoy the whacked out fic.

{Maybe I'm a coward}

*Squeak*

His boot squealed against the floor as he turned sharply on his heel. Seven steps in one direction. Then *squeak*, as he turned. Seven steps in the opposite.

Pacing. Another late shift, and Snively didn't know what to do with himself. He turned again, eyes settling on the coffee cup on the console. It was empty. Maybe that had made him on the edge.

He grimaced, moaning as a sharp pain hit his side.

Maybe it was because Julian's fist had lashed out today, cracking two slender curved ribs inside him.

He shuddered hard, making his body hurt more, but he couldn't stop it. Just the thought of that fist bearing down... even now sweat was beading on his brow. He wiped it, frowning.

{I'm only scared of you}

He sighed loudly, turning his eye on the surveillance monitors like he was supposed to. He was supposed to be watching them like a hawk, pouring his entire being into those grayscale screens, watching for any bright flash of fur in that monotone city.

{Or maybe I'm just tired of living here}

He was so sick of it. With a growl, he took five rapid steps, bringing himself face-to-face with one of the monitors and its picture of a street in Robotropolis east. Another animal sound escaped him. He sounded so much like those beasts that Uncle stalked so fervently. His fist arched round suddenly, smashing soundly into the glass screen. It did not break; his hand did bruise. His only sound was a quiet whimper. The screen fluttered.

{I'm alive and I'm aware  
Of what's going on around here}

How very tired he was. His eyes drooped; even coffee could not alleviate this weariness. It was not just a fatigue of his body, but his mind as well. His mind, a pit of blood and barbed wire, and all its faded IOU's piled until they hit the top of his soul. It was all he could think about some days. What they all owed him.  
What he owed himself. Because he had wanted to be something bigger. He couldn't settle for this. Being a slave. Being Uncle's slave.  
Bestowed with 'Second-in-command'  
But he knew what he really was.

{'Cause I'm a coward}

The monitors were so empty, and his conscience was as well. He wanted to do something big tonight. Another fist was smashed into the monitors but they were too strong for his weak hand. He wanted them to break. He wanted glass to shatter the floor like the busted shards of memories and dead dreams cluttered his mind.

{I'm neurotic}

When it was done, when the glass lay upon the floor and the monitors steamed like a chain smoker's mouth, he almost fell to the floor, sobbing in fear. He clutched his arms to himself instead, backing into a corner. He could see Uncle there now, in front of him, both fists raised and furious, his mouth with those square teeth screaming out insults and threats. And carrying every one of those threats out...

{I'm just tired of living in here}

He let his coffee cup drop. It was pretty durable. Having smashed the monitors and all. Not even one crack had appeared in its resilient surface. Snively wished he could be like that coffee cup.

{I'm depressive I'm obsessive}

He slid down to the floor, his legs propped up in front of him. The floor was very cold on his rear.

"This whole city is cold..." he said aloud, his odd voice echoing in the large room. It sounded different without the monitors to bounce off. He glanced to the throne with fearful eyes, but Julian wasn't there, of course. If he were, he'd be pounding his nephew into the ground.

He shivered, burying his face into his knees. Wetness from his eyes soaked into the gray fabric of his pants. The laser pistol on his belt was digging hard into his hip, and it was cold too.

"SNIVELY!!" A voice screamed.

He jumped up, nearly screaming in terror, his back hard against the wall.

{I'm just tired of living in fear}

"Sir?" his voice came out like a squeaking rat's.

"Why can't I see you, Snively?" The voice demanded. "What happened to the monitor?"

"It's...broken..." came the meek response.

"Fix it then, damn you!"

"Of...of course sir."

He fiddled with the switches. But there was no fixing this, and Robotnik would soon be down here, fixing him. His breathing grew high and raspy, and his uncle, listening over the speakers, heard it. His voice growled like an angry dog.

"What is going on down there?"

"I can't fix it, sir," he finally admitted.

Uncle heaved a large angry sigh. It was only an intake of breath but it was enough to set Snively shivering in his knee-high boots. "I'm coming down there, you little prick, and I want some answers."

{Maybe my depression is all in my head}

He muttered an affirmative response. Sobbing was just barely held back. Uncle clicked off and he knew the fat man would waste no time getting down here. Snively knew, with a sick twist in his stomach, that Julian got pleasure out of his pain. He sank down to the floor again, staring down at his wrists as if transfixed. Maybe he could stop it this time. Maybe if he beat Julian to the punch, there wouldn't be any more hurting.

{Maybe it's my obsession to feel sorry for myself}

There would be a lot of blood, to be sure. He searched his pockets rapidly, desperate, like a homeless man would rifle through garbage for food. He found no sustenance today; there was no blade to be found. There wasn't even lint; for Snively was immaculate. Today he had washed his pale hands twenty times, and still it seemed he couldn't get the blood out from under his fingernails...

{I'm alive and I'm aware of what's going on around here}

It wasn't his blood to wash. It was all Uncle's. Uncle had made him do those things. He had made him hate and made him commit this horrid genocide against the animals. Were they animals though? They talked and thought and wrote poetry and made love and he couldn't imagine any animals that had done those things.

{'Cause I'm a coward  
I'm neurotic  
I'm just tired of living in here}

He heard footsteps and knew Julian was coming. Each loud clang seemed to slam in his brain, reminding him of the shatter of those monitors. The glass was thick on the floor and there was no way to hide it.

{I'm depressive I'm obsessive  
I'm just tired of living in fear  
I'm a coward}

Something broke inside and he began to cry, tears running down his face. He curled on the floor, sobbing and banging his tiny fist into the metal surface. The pain sharpened him, made him realize something.

"I can stop it."

It was cowardly. It was shameful. He stood up straight and still, clasping his arms subserviently behind his back. And Robotnik came in. He walked in past Snively, and stared at the monitors open-mouthed.

{I'm a coward}

"Snively..." His voice was low, trailing off into a fierce snarl. He moved closer, red boots crunching loud upon the glass.

{I'm neurotic}

He raised a hand, trembling in disbelief, to one monitor. He touched the jagged glass shards that remained. A curse rang out.

{I'm just tired of living in here}

His finger was cut and blood oozed from his leather glove. "Snively...I will... kill you for this."

{I'm depressive}

Snively was still crying. His cheeks burned with tears. But he could stop it.

{I'm obsessive}

Uncle began to turn. Snively wondered what blood would look like on the reflective glass. Sick? Pretty? His hand withdrew from behind his back.

{I'm just tired of living in fear}}

Uncle never got to turn around. A laser blast sang out like the final note of a song. And it was the end. Snively dropped the gun and it clattered. Uncle fell.

{I'm a coward.}

He had shot him in the back.

But the pain didn't stop. He sobbed louder, staring wide-eyed at the body, at the blood splattered upon the glass. It didn't look pretty. It made him drop to his knees.

He looked down at the gun.

It had killed his only family left.

He wondered if shooting it again would finally end his agony.

One hand reached down...

{I'm a coward...}


End file.
